Don't Ask Me How I Know That
by MonsterV
Summary: Nick's version of "Did I Ever Tell You..." A continuing collection of different "Don't ask me how I know that" experiences from Nick's point of view, both before and after the game takes place.
1. Chapter 1

Don't ask me how I know that

"Going to the clinic on 4th in Boston is a mistake. They have no sense of privacy. Don't ask me how I know that."

How I know that:

I don't know if you know this, but I have always had digestive problems. Bleeding ulcers, chronic diarrhea and the like. But when I was in my early 30s, I developed a new symptom: a staggering amount of blood coming out of my ass. So needless to say I was a little uneasy and went to see a doctor.

All was well, I was sitting in the waiting room, trying to get comfortable for what was looking like it would be a long wait. The room was full, like 20 other people were waiting.

So the lady at the front desk calls out, "Canavacc…in…a…de.." and I know she's just butchering my last name, so I stand up and go to the front desk.

She starts to check me in, including a proper pronunciation of my last name, and my health insurance information.

Typical stuff, I have to lean in a little, because there's a lot of chatter in the waiting room.

Then, for no reason at all, the waiting room goes dead silent, just in time for her to ask,

"And you're here for the rectal bleeding?" loudly enough for everyone to hear.

I'm dying of embarrassment, but I stay strong, keeping my face stoic and I say, "Yea, that's me."

She finishes checking me in, and then I have to take the walk of shame back to my seat, and wait 15 more minutes before I'm called into the back. I won't look at anybody the entire time.

By the way, I ended up being fine… just perfectly "normal" rectal bleeding.

The visit was unbearable, though.

The doc asks if I took proper measures during sex.

I was like, "Excuse me?"

The guy thought I was just having an obscene amount of anal sex and that was why I was bleeding.

It took over 5 minutes to explain that nothing went into my ass, and the look he gave me couldn't have said, "I don't believe you" any more directly unless he verbally said it.


	2. Chapter 2

"It doesn't take long to suffocate in a closet. Don't ask me how I know that."

How I know that:

Okay, so this was back when I was married to Carla, my second wife. I was inches from divorcing her already, but I just didn't find the time yet to sit her down and tell her. Things weren't working out and I was sure that something was up with her.

I came home from work in the dead of summer, and I was a couple hours early. I wasn't feeling too hot because my ulcer was acting up. The boss man didn't want me to complicate things at work so he sent me home to get some rest. I was thinking, "Great! Some rest and relaxing sounds pretty good."

I got home and of course Carla's lazy ass was home, but she was in bed when I went upstairs. I don't think much of it for a minute, until I notice that she's wide awake and wearing the expensive lingerie that I got her for our anniversary. That strikes me as weird, because why the fuck, right?

Keep in mind, Carla had no idea I was coming home early. She only wore that lingerie set once, on our actual anniversary. She hadn't come near me in weeks: no sex, no romance, not even a kiss.

So this is way out of the norm. I asked her what she was dressed up for and she said that dressing like this made her feel sexy and she wanted to surprise me when I got home…four hours later.

At this point I'm thinking, "Yeah right. She's probably pulling some shit so she can just reject me if I come near her." She was big into doing things like that when she was mad about something. I guess it kept her feeling in control.

Anyway, I feel like hell, so I decide to just drop her weird bullshit and I go toward my closet to put my work clothes away. She jumps out of bed and tries to pull me away from the closet. She kisses me and is really trying to get my attention. She's basically in a rush to rip my pants off and normally that would be hot. But she seems like she's in such a hurry, and after her ignoring me for so long, it just felt off.

Every time I moved toward the closet to put my clothes up, she would renew her efforts and after a few times it was more annoying than sexy. So I told her I was not in the mood because I threw up blood at work.

So now she starts the sweet, caring wife façade and tells me to go downstairs and take my meds and then get some rest on the couch.

Uh huh, she clearly wants me out of the room.

I ask her what her problem is and why she's acting so weird and we argue for about 5 minutes about how she "isn't being weird and I'm just a paranoid prick."

But right at the height of the argument, I hear this _CLUNK_ noise from across the room, you guessed it, from the closet.

I ask her what the hell that sound was and she acts like she didn't hear it.

This sound was loud. It sounded like dropping one of those gym punching bags on the ground. There was no way she didn't hear it.

She is now desperately trying to keep me away from the closet door and I am hellbent on getting to the bottom of this.

Eventually I just have to sling her off me and go grab the door knob. For a second, the knob won't turn. It's stuck for some reason.

I ask her, "Carla what the hell is this?"

She looks worried but doesn't say anything.

I pushed on the door, then turned the handle and it opens up.

Out tumbles a guy, a naked guy.

Well, mostly naked. He has a Batman mask on, but otherwise naked. The guy is drenched in sweat because our closets don't have vents in them and it was hot as hell in there. He's unconscious on the floor of my bedroom.

Carla starts with the "it's not what it looks like" bullshit and I've had it at that point.

I start yelling.

"CARLA! THERE WAS A FUCKING NAKED ASS MAN IN THE CLOSET!"

I notice the guy has not come to his senses yet and I stop yelling at her long enough to check on him. The guy doesn't seem like he's breathing so I panic.

I'm like, "This shit can't happen again. I can't get arrested again. I'm calling 911."

So I called 911 to come help the man my wife was cheating on me with. The medics come and I tell them what happened, and they're acting awkwardly while my wife and I continue to scream at each other. The police show up because a neighbor must have gotten sick of the yelling. The medics let the police in without me telling them to and a cop turns the corner just as Carla is blaming me for her cheating. She loaded me right in the face because I called her a whore. So my now ex-wife was arrested for assaulting met and the naked Batman guy she was cheating on me with was taken out of my apartment on a stretcher. And that's how I know that it doesn't take long to suffocate in a closet."


End file.
